


cul-de-sac (no catcher and no rye)

by rosewitchx



Series: god of arepo [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst, Gen, Ghost Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, Good Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Hehehe, Hurt No Comfort, Imprisonment, Lies, Unethical Experimentation, Unhappy Ending, does this count as whump? who knows, glatt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28367778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewitchx/pseuds/rosewitchx
Summary: Connor is a god, Connor is a battery, and Connor is (not) alone.--Or, Glatt visits a friend in jail.
Relationships: Connor | ConnorEatsPants & Jschlatt
Series: god of arepo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096694
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	cul-de-sac (no catcher and no rye)

**Author's Note:**

> title: você - la vida boheme
> 
> BEFORE YOU READ  
> this shit is from a nonsense canon divergent au in which  
> \- the egg took over  
> \- some of the players are vessels of the gods (dream, techno, wil, schlatt, and ofc connor, etc)  
> basically, the setup for this is that dream (+sam) forced connor to lock himself up in the vault and become a power source for it in order to save ranboo from the same fate and to keep the infected by the egg contained. so like, that's his life now lmfao sorry if you have any questions ask away!!! i might write more abt this maybe not who knows

“‘Sup,” the ghost of Schlatt says. His voice is faint, barely an echo of what it used to be - though it’s not like Connor can focus on it too much anyway. 

“Not much,” he replies. His voice is strained with effort and pain. “Just being a battery, dude. What took you so long?”

“Eating cereal,” the ghost says. If Connor could see (which he can’t, seeing as his very last drop of energy not being sucked by this dumb machine is being wasted in mantaining a coherent conversation) he’d notice that, effectively, Glatt is holding a bowl of Ghost Cereal. How does that work? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t need to see his friend to know that’s true, either; the munching is loud enough of an indicator. “This one’s a B, I’m thinkin’.”

“Good for you,” Connor says. “I’m a battery.”

“I can see that,” Glatt says. Connor feels a flicker around his head, where he supposes one of the wires is connected to his brain, followed by a bolt of agony. He screams. “Oof. Sorry, buddy.”

“It’s no big deal,” Connor groans. “So what’s going on out there,” he asks. “Tubbo okay?”

A pause. “Not really,” the ghost tells him. The munching has paused. “I showed Ranboo the way home, so he got out. You’re welcome.”

It is a relief. It also means Tubbo is all alone with Dream now. “Thanks,” Connor says anyway. “Knew I could count on you for that.”

“Everyone else is preparing,” his dead companion continues, knowing what he wants to hear. “ _ Dawn _ will probably come soon, if you know what I’m sayin’. Man, I’m hungry, should I order takeout? Maybe thai.”

“Maybe.” 

“And Tommy,” he’s eating again, damn, “Tommy’s fine, I think, Sapnap and George are getting better. Technoblade’s training them, I think we have a shot. Fuck this chicken’s good.”

“Ghostbur?” He has to ask. Glatt rolls his eyes, Connor just  _ knows  _ he does.

“Motherfucker still has amnesia. It’s so fucking annoying. But he’s being helpful, I guess, he keeps everything working as it should so I can’t complain much, not when I ruin everything I touch.”

The room, already frigid, turns colder. Connor feels the pain biting at every inch of exposed skin he has left that  _ hasn’t  _ had its every nerve fried by the wiring. He really can’t deal with self-deprecating Schlatt right now, not when it means agony for him.

“Listen, I would love to comfort you in these trying times, but I’m literally being used as a living battery, and even having to form coherent thoughts is making me want to die.”

“Noted. My bad.” The room grows a little warmer. It still hurts like hell. 

“You think Sam’s gonna let me go anytime soon?”

Glatt doesn’t reply. Silence again.

“Schlatt? Buddy?”

“I don’t know where Sam is,” the ghost confesses. “Dream’s trying to keep the Infection inside. It was a nightmare, getting in here without anyone seeing me, y’know.”

“I know. Sorry, I just really hate this, dude.”

“Don’t worry too much about it. We’ll come for you in no time. That’s a promise, buddy.”

_ A promise.  _

Connor’s world is dark, cold, and painful, and when the ghost of his best friend brushes against his shoulder it hurts so badly - but he  _ promised.  _ And that sends warmth up into his chest, hope. Besides, the update is helpful; he knows where the main players are, albeit vaguely. Tubbo and Dream in L’manberg, Tommy and Techno with the rebels, Ghostbur and Glatt being the moving pieces in the chessboard. This works. This can work.

Any moment now, the rebels will attack. The rebels will free him. And once he's free, Dream will pay. Connor has never been a fighter - he's never liked conflict, not in the world-ending way that the other deities here do. He was content with his little piece of land, his safe haven, far removed from the wars and the tyranny. 

He's the god of home, though. The god of family. And Dream (oblivion, as he once knew him) decided to hit on his land, his people. That is unforgivable.

He will be freed. And the second he is released, Dream will pay.

“I have to go now,” Glatt is saying. He’s stopped eating now. “I’ll be back, okay? I promise.”

“‘Kay,” Connor says. He’s exhausted. “I‘m going to sleep for a while.”

“You do that. See you soon, buddy.”

“See ya.”

He doesn’t hear his friend leave, just as he didn’t hear him arrive. Finally alone, he allows himself to lose control, and falls into a dreamless rest, unaware that he has been lied to, and he is the last living man in the world.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this is my 70th work. which means my fantasy au is 69th. nice


End file.
